


night rider

by nante



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1980s, 80's Music, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Dancing, Grinding, M/M, Rave, Semi-Public Sex, Tony Being Tony, Top Bucky Barnes, bruce wants to go home, he cant, idk how to tag this, on the same day they meet, tony brings bruce to a rave, tony is his ride, tony thats not how you maintain friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nante/pseuds/nante
Summary: Model MIT student Tony Stark isn't about to let things as trivial asresponsibilityruin his nightlife. So when he's forced to"collaborate with, supervise, and aid"some random Caltech transfer, he easily decides—screw that.





	night rider

**Author's Note:**

> when will i stop letting my 3 brain cells convince me that everything i write has to lead to porn

Tony sits, spinning around in his desk chair as he stares up at the ceiling of his dorm room.

Ever since his older roommate graduated a year ago, everything had turned to shit.

In other words, cooking his own meals and remembering that sleep is important takes up a lot more of his time than it used to.

He would usually go ahead and add not being able to care for himself to his Howard Stark curse list, but remembering Jarvis’ lemon tart keeps him from actually pulling out a pen.

Tony lets out a large, exaggerated sigh as he pushes his hand against his desk to keep the chair spinning.

He seems to be a little too relaxed for a Monday afternoon, because the next time he goes to move his chair, someone simultaneously knocks on his door, shocking him into sitting up straight.

His ankle swings straight into the leg of his desk, and Tony is on the floor groaning like an idiot while someone stands outside his door.

The doors are thin enough for whoever is outside his to have heard his massive failure, and if his cheeks are a little red when he opens the door, it’s from spinning around, _not_ embarrassment.

Tony has moved on from his chair spinning excursion as soon as the door is open, and he has a frontal view of who had come knocking. A student, obviously, who must have struggled with carrying his three large duffles up the stairs, and also looks very lost.

 _He’s really cute_ , Tony thinks, trying to ignore the throbbing coming from his ankle.

“Can I help you?” He asks, eyebrows raised. Last time he checked, there hadn’t been any noise complaints about his room, nor had he been expecting any visitors.

“Erm, yes, well…”

Tony gives an awkward smile and motions for the guy to continue.

He’s got nothing to do for hours, so he’d rather get back to doing it undisturbed.

“I just uh, got here and uh, Student Services told me you’d be ready to have me?”

Tony’s semi-annoyed smile sags into a frown.

“You must have the wrong room. Sorry,” Tony shrugs, “Student Services kind of sucks, dude.”

“Uh. Sorry but, I just.. recognize...you are Tony Stark... and it says so right here,” Tony is handed a crumpled piece of paper.

“They told me you should have gotten an e-mail, too.”

The frown stays plastered on his face as he looks from the paper, to the guy holding it out to him.

 _Really cute_ is turning into _big inconvenience_ in record time.

Tony takes the paper, smooths it out, and reads it.

**_Dear Tony Stark,_ **

**_On the account of your well-standing merit, you have been selected to collaborate with, supervise, and aid an incoming summer transfer student. Due to your achievements and your decision to remain on campus this summer, we believe that you are a quality candidate to host one of MIT’s summer program students. A benefit package will be included if you choose to take part in the hosting program. If you wish to deny collaboration with the program, please contact the Student Services help desk in your residence hall. If no contact is made, you will still be viable for the program._ **

Tony flips the paper over, seeing a handwritten note with his dorm number scribbled in the cursed handwriting of whatever student services employee wrote it.

Well, this is what he fucking gets for letting his mail stay unopened on his desk for so long.

“See...” The guy speaks up once Tony looks up from the paper with a little too much outward disgust on his face.

“Yeah. I can read.” He snaps, taking a step backwards before yanking the door open wider. As it turns out, the universe really doesn’t want him to have a nice afternoon. When he pulls the door open, the bottom corner scrapes right across his ankle and Tony finds himself on the floor groaning in pain for the second time within five minutes.

**—**

The guy’s name is Bruce Banner, and he’s really not that bad once Tony has sat down with him for a while.

Once Bruce had helped Tony up from the floor, and Tony had dragged one of Bruce’s three duffle bags inside, they’d talked a bit.

Bruce, like him, is in his last year of undergrad, and surprisingly young—only one year older than Tony at nineteen.

“God, nineteen and still in college? Where do you go? Caltech?”

Funny enough, Bruce does actually go to Caltech, and Tony figures the guy must be pretty intelligent if the admissions board is trying to rope him into transferring fulltime by offering him some bullshit summer program starring their most well known student.

He doesn’t have to go through much trouble of introducing himself, since Bruce had recognized his name when the program was first offered up to him.

“So. Any plans tonight?”

Tony is seated in his desk chair—forgive and forget—that he’d moved into his bedroom to sit in and watch Bruce unpack.

“Well no. I don’t really know anyone here, and the flight over was kind of long, so if I could just finally get some sleep—”

“What? No way man! I’m not letting you be fucking lame on your first night here. I’ve been waiting all day to go to this rave, and you, my Caltech fucking idiot, are definitely coming with me.”

**—**

Tony only feels slightly bad that Bruce looks like the human embodiment of misery.

He’d feel significantly worse if he hadn’t just totally inhaled four shots of god knows what, but the thing is—he has, and whether or not Bruce decides to stop looking like an idiot, just standing there half bopping his head and outwardly cringing each time someone rubs against him, isn’t really Tony’s business.

What _is_ Tony’s business, stands directly behind him and of course, is all over him.

Tony, like the seasoned professional he is, is doing the beefy brunette a favor by grinding his ass back like his life depends on it.

He lives for moments like these, with sweaty, tightly packed bodies barely giving him space to move as he dances and screams and _lets go_.

There’s heat in the air and fast-paced lights flashing from whatever saint was dedicated enough to the life to buy strobe lights for this.

When Tony is suddenly spun around and there’s a hot tongue being shoved down his throat, the last thing on his mind is the comfort of any Bruce Banner.

**—**

Having fun at the expense of other people’s happiness, Tony finds, isn’t really as bad as it sounds.

Not when he’s got his ass being thoroughly _destroyed_ while his face is squished up against the inside of a porta potty wall.

Tony’s jeans lie pooled at his ankles, and with each loud _thump_ of the bass in whatever new synth song has come on outside, his body vibrates, all nicely syncing up with the way this blue-eyed brunette is so harshly pounding into him.

The hand in his hair is gripping tightly, occasionally yanking back and slamming forward his face to re-position it on the plastic wall that he’s been forced to grow fond of.

Tony fucking loves it.

He’s a mess, sweat trickling down his forehead as he works his ass backwards in a steady repetitive motion that’s got this brunette absolutely whipped. Tony knows because the next time his head is yanked back, he’s also being forced to turn his neck, and a sloppy, wet kiss is placed right on his upper lip.

Tony takes advantage of the sudden closeness and bites on the brunette’s bottom lip.

They continue from there, both biting and sucking and kissing, and Tony’s not too sure when it is that inebriated porta potty sex becomes romantic, but when he registers that the brunette is sitting on the toilet lid, and he’s in his lap, consequently being lifted up and down until he starts to help out by properly moving his ass, Tony thinks he’s pretty much in love.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them, Tony and his brunette, stumble out of the porta potty still sucking face and zipping their pants up.

Tony, blissfully fucked out, accepts the brunette’s arm around his shoulders. He almost feels too relaxed, like nothing could throw him off his rocker.

Except, today the universe decided that relaxation isn’t for Tony Stark, because his eyes are bulging out of their sockets when he sees Bruce fucking Banner dragging some tall, hunky blond into his previously occupied stall.

**Author's Note:**

> bruce's inner monologue: all i wanted was an education, tony stark ruined my life instead
> 
> ok i initially put bruce in this bc i just wanted dialogue with mit tony but then as i was writing i felt bad about abandoning him at the rave while tony was getting dick so i gave him thor at the end


End file.
